Speechless
by Meb
Summary: While out hunting, Roxton and Marguerite have a visitor who tries to teach Marguerite a little something about kindness. Will she survive the lesson?
1. Marguerite the Mute

"If you can't say something nice, then don't say anything at all ****

"If you can't say something nice, then don't say anything at all."

"Well it is about time," Marguerite complained as she looked over at the handsome man beside her. "I mean, we've _only _be out here three days. Honestly Roxton, sometimes I wonder how you gained your reputation as a world-renowned hunter!" 

With a hassled look at the infuriating woman beside him, Roxton simply said, "You know, I have a reputation for being world-renowned in another area." Lifting his eyebrow at her in a suggestive manner he added, "Maybe you would like to see how I gained that one."

Marguerite decided not to comment on his offer, his blistering sensuality leaving her at a loss for words. Instead she walked over to the large hog he had just shot. They had left the treehouse a few days ago to replenish their food supply and this was their first kill. She was becoming increasingly frustrated with the trip. She had to choke down roots and berries for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Not to mention the fact that she hadn't had a decent bath the entire time. She refused to admit that the main reason she ached for a bath was because she knew she looked horrid and, much to her chagrin, she always wanted Roxton to see her at her best. 

"Let's get this packed up before the scavengers arrive," he ordered, taking out his knife to cut into the wild beast. 

"Ugh, I think I'll wait over here," she said over her shoulder as she walked to a nearby rock. 

He looked at her and sighed. _She is undoubtedly the most obstinate person I've ever met!_ Unfortunately, she also happened to be the woman he had fallen head over heels in love with. As much as he had struggled against it, he finally realized a few weeks ago that the reason this woman got to him the way no one else could was because he adored her. _This must be penance for the wicked days of my youth_, he thought with a smile. His eyes traveled over her slim body as she wiped the sweat from her face. Her hair was down, which was unusual for her in this hot weather, and he dug his knife savagely into the hog to keep from walking over and running both of his hands through the thick ebony curls. 

"Roxton, go easy! It's already dead, it isn't going anywhere," she remarked as she saw the force with which he was cutting into the pig. 

"Well, actually, if we don't hurry up and get the hell out of here, I'm sure it will be going into the belly of a raptor with only us to keep it company." 

She rolled her eyes and got up to help him. "Fine, fine . . . I don't know what you'd do without me."

"I'd much rather think of the things I could do _with_ you, my dear," he teased, the attractiveness of his lopsided grin increased by the twinkle in his eyes.

Her heart skipped a few beats and she had to force herself to breathe slowly. _This man is nothing but trouble,_ she reminded herself for the millionth time. And like so many times before, her heart didn't heed a word she said. 

***** *****

"It'll be dark soon, we best camp here," Roxton informed the dark heiress wandering closely behind him. She was breathing heavy and he almost felt sorry for her. At least until he remembered the reason he had pushed them so hard. _That tongue of hers could cut one of her precious diamonds in half, _he reflected as he thought of all the insults, complaints, and grumbling that she hurled at him since they had left the hog. His personal solution was to push her hard and travel fast so that she would be too exhausted to talk, much less complain. _Crude but effective_, he thought, using a favorite phrase of hers to explain his methods. 

"The way you've been running through the jungle, I'm beginning to think you can't wait to be rid of me," she observed as she dropped her heavy pack to the ground and began taking off her gun holster. Her face was flushed and her feet ached terribly but she was too tired to say anything about it. But when he pulled out a sack full of dried berries, she couldn't stop herself from moaning, "Not again! I cannot take another meal of berries! Why the hell did we kill that damn pig if we're not even going to eat it?"

"Fine, if you want to cook some up, be my guest." 

She looked at him doubtfully. _He must have caught some kind of fever traipsing through the woods! _She sighed, "Hand over the berries."

He had to resist the urge to laugh at her defeated expression. Taking pity on her, he said, "Okay Marguerite, I'll make you a deal. If I make dinner tonight, you have to do my laundry for a month."

"A month! Your dirty socks? I don't think so. Nothing is worth that much, least of all your cooking."

"Have it your way," he said as he threw the sack of fruit at her. 

Opening the bag, she looked in and her stomach growled. _This just isn't going to do, _she thought as she looked resentfully at Roxton who was happily devouring a handful of the dried fruit. "How about if you cook dinner tonight, I'll let you sleep in my bed for a week," she offered, knowing how much Roxton admired her big, soft mattress. 

"Will you be in it at the time?" The look on his face was positively devilish. 

"Roxton!" she exclaimed, acting shocked at his forwardness in order to hide the rush of pure delight that came when she pictured the two of them together in her large bed. 

Taking her shout as a no, he said, "Then no deal. Enjoy the berries, I'm going to bed." He proceeded to roll over and fall sound asleep.

As much as she wanted to be mad with him for not cooking her dinner, his flirtatious attitude made it impossible for her to muster up any anger. She stared at his broad back and contemplated the relationship she had with the rugged man in front of her. For a while she thought she had succeeded in spurning his advances and was surprised to find that she was thoroughly disappointed by how easily he gave up. But lately, it seemed as though he had made her his primary objective. She caught him staring at her when he thought she couldn't see him and he was becoming bolder, almost daring her to take him up on his numerous offers. It took all her strength to hold out against his boyish charm and a body that was anything but boyish. She felt her face burning and she forced herself to lay down and get some sleep. _Roxton, what am I going to do with you?_

***** *****

A rough hand gently shaking her shoulder awakened her. Immediately she complained, "It can't be time to go already, I just went to sl—" She looked up angrily as her words were cut off by the same callused hand that had just shaken her awake closing over her mouth.

"Shhh! Someone is approaching the camp . . ." he whispered in her ear, trying to ignore the fresh scent that seemed to cling to her no matter how hot or dirty she became.

She stared out into the darkness anxiously as she reached for her gun. She took Roxton's hand and allowed him to help her up. They remained half-crouched behind a tree until a form slowly came into their line of vision. Although they were too far away to make out any definite features, the person was moving slowly and the faint moonlight was reflecting off long white hair. The person stopped by the dying embers of the explorer's campfire and called out, "Hello? Is anyone here?"

"Stay here," Roxton quietly ordered before he cautiously stepped out from behind the tree and asked, "Who are you?"

"Just a poor old woman, I wish you no harm." 

Relaxing a bit but still not completely dropping his guard, he asked, "Are you hurt?"

Giving him a serene smile that made her look years younger, the stranger introduced herself, "My name is Aria. I'm not hurt, merely hungry." As if to accentuate the point, her legs nearly gave way underneath her frail weight. 

Convinced she had no ulterior motive, Roxton propped his rifle up next to a tree and rushed to help the old woman sit down. "I'm Lord John Roxton," he started and then motioned towards the tree at his companion, "that is Marguerite Krux. We'd be happy to offer you some food and a place to rest until morning."

"Bless you young man. There is a storage of truly noble people in this world and I'm lucky to have found two such people," she said with a smile.

Marguerite snorted behind Roxton and pulled on his shirt. Giving Aria a reassuring smile, he followed her to the other side of the camp. She cornered him and asked, "Just what do you think you're doing?"

"Helping a fellow human being, I wouldn't expect you to understand," he said harshly, aggravated by her tone.

"Well correct me if I'm wrong, but did we or didn't we eat almost all our berries last night . . . I refuse to give my breakfast up for a stranger!"

"A few hours ago I practically had to beg you to eat the fruit, now you're refusing to share it?" The look he gave almost made her back down. 

"There aren't enough berries for all of us so what do you think she's going to eat?"

"The wild hog, of course," he responded, grinning from ear to ear.

__

So he won't cook me dinner but he'll get up in the middle of the night to make something for a complete stranger who was probably only looking to rob us in the first place! Instead of attacking him she decided to try reasoning with him first, "Roxton, I hate to be the one to bring this up but if we eat the pig now, we won't have anything to take back to the treehouse."

"How little confidence you have in me, Marguerite," he admonished her. "I'll just have to kill something else before we go back."

"Yeah, you did such a good job of it last time," she muttered, the idea of spending another few days in the jungle instantly putting her in a bad mood. "Look at her, she's ancient. Even if we give her food she probably won't make it too much longer."

Getting annoyed at her selfishness, he cut her off before she could say anything else. Giving her a hard look he said, "We are going to help this woman, Marguerite. There is nothing you can do about it." 

With that he turned to make his way to Aria. Marguerite stared at his back and had to fight down a feeling of shame that began to course through her. _There's nothing wrong with taking care of yourself first_, she tried to convince herself as she followed behind Roxton.

Aria had watched and listened to the whole exchange in silence. Although she looked old, as the dark-haired woman so tactlessly pointed out, she was actually a fairy. She often took on the form of an old lady as she meandered through the forest looking for good Samaritans. She rewarded those who acted gallantly and punished those who didn't. 

The fact that the noble man was obviously in love with the callous woman did not escape Aria. _This makes it much more difficult_, she said to herself. Normally she would just banish the 'bad ones' to Noin, a mystical place where the people were shown the errors of their selfish ways until they were reformed. However, to banish the woman would wound this good man dreadfully. _What to do, what to do_, she pondered as the handsome gentleman approached her. 

"Just rest for a few minutes while I whip up something in the kitchen," he teased her gently as he worked on getting the fire restarted.

She smiled at him and a brilliant idea came to her. _This just might work . . ._

***** *****

The next morning the explorers awoke to find their visitor gone. Marguerite threw Roxton a harried look as she quickly went through their things to make sure the stranger hadn't stolen anything. 

"Oh Marguerite, she was a little old woman, don't be silly," he remarked when he realized what she was doing.

She opened her mouth to remind him how many times little old people had taken advantage of them since they arrived on the plateau and was horrified to find no sound coming out. She closed her mouth with a snap and looked at Roxton in alarm.

Seeing her frightened eyes, he grabbed his rifle, "What is it? Did you hear something?" 

She shook her head no and tried to say _'That's the problem, I'm not hearing my own voice'_ but once again she couldn't produce any sound. Utterly terrified now, she grabbed her neck and tried to calm her racing thoughts. 

Roxton rushed over to her and removed her hands, fearful that she might have been bitten by something. However, after a close examination he didn't discover any bite marks and he pulled away with a puzzled expression.

"Well? What is it? What's the matter Marguerite?" 

__

Obviously the problem is that I can't talk you idiot!! She opened her mouth again and attempted to force some sound out only to be greeted by silence. As panic threatened to overwhelm her, Roxton took her hand and said, "Have you lost your voice Marguerite?"

She nodded in agreement. Not being able to resist he said, "Then this must be my lucky day!" At his words, she saw red and started pounding on his arms and chest with her fists. 

"Calm down, I'm sorry," he murmured to her as he got her under control and hugged her tightly. He delighted at having her so close to him for a few moments, aware that under normal circumstances she would have pulled away by now. "It'll be okay Marguerite, I'm sure you're just worn out. Once we get back to the treehouse, you can get some rest and your voice will come back." He wished he was a sure as he sounded. The truth was that he was troubled. _Something very strange is going on here . . ._

Her eyes expressed her gratitude for his calming words. _Funny, but I never noticed how expressive her eyes were before_, he thought. "Come on," he said putting an arm around her waist, "we don't have too much further to go."

Silently, they gathered up their packs and guns and made their way back to the treehouse.

***** *****

Malone greeted them as soon as they stepped off the elevator. "We were getting worried, if you didn't show up by tonight, we were planning to start searching for you in the morning," he said with a grin as Roxton dropped their share of the wild animal on the floor.

"I see you were successful," Challenger commented, looking up from the table where he was once again studying the maps they had made of the plateau. 

__

If you call roaming around the jungle for days and only finding one miserable animal successful, Marguerite thought sarcastically. She knew she wasn't being fair to Roxton but she was too upset to care at the moment. _Besides, it's not like he can read my mind and I certainly can't say anything aloud_ . . .

Veronica looked at the moody expression one the other woman's face and waited for her to start a tirade about the hunting trip. She was baffled when the seconds stretched out and Marguerite didn't say a word. _I wonder if something happened between them_, she thought as she analyzed the pair for any sign that something was amiss.

Malone noticed the dead silence from the heiress and asked, "Marguerite are you feeling all right? You're being uncharacteristically quiet."

Roxton cleared his throat and fought to sound solemn as he announced, "It would seem that our dear Marguerite has lost her voice temporarily."

As his words sunk in, one by one the rest of the group started grinning widely. _I can't believe this! They are actually happy I can't talk!_ She fumed as her friends started chuckling uncontrollably.

Hard as he tried not to, he couldn't help but join in their laughter. He really did feel bad for Marguerite, but he couldn't say that he didn't relish the idea of a few days away from the sharp side of her tongue. _There are so many other things she could be doing with it . . . _Trying to keep the idiotic smile off his face at his wayward thoughts, he put a consoling arm around her shoulders, only to have it shrugged off by the angry woman.

"What's the matter Marguerite? Cat got your tongue?" Veronica asked, still laughing at the situation the self-centered beauty found herself in. 

"Whoa," Malone said to Veronica, referring to the look Marguerite threw her, "I'd be careful if I were you, her bite is definitely worse than her bark right now!"

Being the first to compose himself, Challenger suggested Marguerite should follow him to his lab to make sure it wasn't anything serious. Having not considered it might be something dangerous, Veronica instantly felt sorry and offered to make Marguerite a cup of tea. 

***** *****

"Is she okay?" Roxton asked anxiously, as his two friends rejoined the group in the living room. He could tell that she was disturbed but Challenger didn't look distressed.

"I can't find anything wrong with her," Challenger explained. "It must just be fatigue. Nothing a little rest won't cure."

Roxton breathed a sigh of relief. _It might be unpleasant for her, but at least it isn't life threatening._ "I think we could all use some rest right about now," he said as he watched Marguerite head off to bed without so much as a backward glance. He knew she was angry but deep down it hurt him that she could dismiss him without a second thought. "Goodnight, Marguerite," he sweetly called out after her. His only answer was the sound of her slamming door.

***** *****

Two weeks had passed and not a peep out of Marguerite. Challenger had examined her many times and was still at a loss to explain her bizarre illness. At first they had all enjoyed the peace and quiet that accompanied Marguerite's lack of voice. However, by the fifth day an eerie sort of silence had seeped into the treehouse and even Veronica admitted she missed the other woman's whining. 

The four friends sat around the table and looked at each other. Without Marguerite's constant banter and frequent complaining, no one really had anything to talk about. The events of the day could be summed up in a five-minute conversation and everyone was thoroughly bored.

Roxton was the most effected by the change in Marguerite. He felt responsible for it, knowing that whatever happened had occurred while she was hunting with him. But even his feelings of guilt were overshadowed by the emptiness within him. He had grown accustomed to having their little arguments almost daily and he felt only half-alive these past couple of weeks.

The fact that she was avoiding all of them did not help matters. Malone had given her one of his blank journals and a pen so that she could communicate with the group but she had only used them a handful of times. Mostly she just stayed in her room, only coming out for meals and her daily bath. 

Sighing deeply, Malone asked Veronica, "Are you sure your parents never mentioned an illness like this?"

"Like I told you the other twelve times you asked, no they didn't," she answered crossly. 

"Sorry, but there's not much to talk about . . ."

"I guess we can all learn a valuable lesson from this," Challenger stated grimly. When the others looked at him curiously, he added, "Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it!"

***** *****

"Marguerite, hold on!" Roxton called after her as he rushed to get his rifle and hat.

Pretending she didn't hear him, she continued her way to the pond. _Why does he insist on following me everywhere? He's probably only coming along to laugh at me some more,_ she thought negatively. 

A hand on her shoulder brought her back to the present. "How many times do I have to tell you it's not safe to go wandering around by yourself?"

Giving him a bored look, she pulled away from his touch and resolutely continued her march to the pond. He followed in her path silently, enjoying the tempting sway of her hips as she walked in front of him. "You look very beautiful today," he complimented her.

Swinging around quickly, her eyes flashed in anger. She took out Malone's journal and began writing furiously in it.

__

What the hell does she have to be upset over? I just said that she looked beautiful, he thought as he shook his head in confusion. _I will never understand women . . . especially this one! _She handed him the paper she had just written on and he read it to himself. Grinning he said, "No Marguerite, I've always thought you to be a very desirable woman . . . a little vicious, but beautiful nonetheless. I wouldn't say it just because you can't 'defend yourself'." His voice dropped lower and he added in a more intimate tone, "I can't say I understand why you feel you have to defend yourself against me at all."

Trying to decide whether to believe him or not, she just stood there for a few seconds. Their eyes met and he didn't look away. She wasn't used to being around people who were so honest that they could maintain eye contact. She finally broke their gaze and changed directions to go back to the treehouse. 

"Where are you going now?"

Stopping to write in the journal she handed him the paper when she was done. Resuming their trek back home, he read it as he trailed behind her . . . _I'm going back to the treehouse before I do something that both of us will regret. _Stopping in his tracks, he thought of what she might possibly mean and he felt his heart rate speed up as his whole body came alive with the possibilities. Finally drifting back to reality from the romantic fantasy playing out in his mind, he couldn't see Marguerite and he hurried to catch up. Unfortunately, by the time joined her they were at the treehouse and yet another opportunity was lost to him forever.


	2. Redemption

Run __

Run! She ordered herself as she fought her way through the thick tangles of vines. He was closing in on her. She heard footsteps behind her and her throat ached with the urge to scream. 

Finally she saw the lights of the treehouse. Looking up she saw her friends out on the terrace, a feeling of safety washed over her. Her mouth opened but no sound would come out. Again and again she tried to yell for help as she looked fearfully over her shoulder. She prayed that Roxton would sense her presence and look down at her but he continued talking to Challenger, unaware of the danger she was in. One last thought echoed through her mind as hands pulled her back into the dark landscape, "I'm as good as dead."

Marguerite fought her way out of the nightmare and gasped for air. Covered in sweat, she looked around disoriented. _Where am I?_ Recovering somewhat, she remembered the reoccurring dream. She had had it every night since she returned to the treehouse.

Shaken more than she cared to admit, she got out of bed to get a glass of water. _What I really need is something to relax me_, she thought as she sipped on her drink. Thinking that the bath she had skipped earlier that day was just what the doctor ordered, she considered waking Roxton up so she didn't have to go out into the night alone. _Don't be ridiculous_, she told herself,_ it's only a few minutes away and you'll have your gun._ _Besides, a moonlight swim with that infuriating man would be anything but relaxing. _

Having made up her mind, she gathered her things and set out for her destination.

***** *****

Drying herself off, she reveled in how much better she felt. Slipping into her clean clothes, she looked up at the night sky and wondered again what the hell had happened to her. _I miss the sound of my voice even if the others don't_, she thought ruefully.

It was hard to explain but these last couple of weeks she had begun to feel that she didn't really exist. Her interaction with the others had been minimal and without hearing her own voice, she had her doubts as to whether she was even really there. She was more of a moving picture than a person, lovely to look at but lacking substance. 

Sighing, she gathered up her things and made her way back to the treehouse. She hadn't gone too far when she heard a twig break behind her. Spinning around, her eyes strained to make out what had caused the noise. After several minutes, she decided she must have just imagined it and continued on her way home. 

By the time she reached the halfway point between the pond and the treehouse, she was certain she was being followed. _From the sound of it, it is just one person,_ she calculated in her head. She started picking up her pace and within a minute broke into a dead run. 

Sweat was pouring down her face and her lungs were burning from fatigue_. Run! _She ordered herself as she fought her way through the thick tangles of vines. He was closing in on her. She heard footsteps behind her and her throat ached with the urge to scream. 

Finally, she saw the lights of the treehouse. Looking up she saw her friends out on the terrace, a feeling of safety washed over her. Her mouth opened but no sound would come out. Again and again she tried to yell for help as she looked fearfully over her shoulder. She prayed that Roxton would sense her presence and look down at her but he continued talking to Challenger, unaware of the danger she was in. One last thought echoed through her mind as hands pulled her back into the dark landscape. _I'm as good as dead._

***** *****

"I'm sure she just went down to the pond," Challenger assured the concerned young man. 

"In the middle of the night? All alone? Not even Marguerite is that stupid," he said in frustration. _Please don't let her have been that stupid! _He had woken up for no apparent reason and felt an overwhelming urge to check on Marguerite. When he entered her empty room, he had immediately grabbed his rifle and was on his way out to look for her when Challenger woke up. 

He gazed out into the night from the terrace and cursed Marguerite over and over again. _Of all the selfish, stupid things!_

Despite Roxton's obvious anger at the situation, Challenger could see the undercurrent of fear threatening to choke his friend. Grabbing his own rifle, he took a minute to write the others a note and then went to help search for Marguerite.

***** *****

It was too dark to make out her abductor's face but what she could see terrified her. She sensed the knife he held at her back and silently cursed her own stupidity. She heard someone crying softly next to her. Since she doubted it was her captor (although she had every intention of making his cry before he killed her), she assumed the tears were coming from another prisoner. If the whimpering voice was anything to go by, the other captive was no more than a child. 

Gellus, the man who had the fate of the young heiress in his tattooed hands, was still congratulating himself on his excellent find. He hadn't been looking for any more slaves but when he stumbled across her on the path he seized the opportunity to increase his holdings. He thought the gods were truly smiling down on him. She was a beautiful woman even though an unnatural silence surrounded her. The more he was with her, the more her total lack of speech unnerved him. 

"Woman, what is your name?"

Even if Marguerite could have spoken, she wouldn't have out of spite. She simply kept walking with her eyes facing forward, making sure to break as many branches and stomp down as many weeds as possible along the way. She was sure Roxton would come looking for her when he discovered she wasn't in her room. Although she knew he could track her without any extra help she reasoned with an inward smile, _No point in making it any harder on him than it has to be._

She felt something hard hit the side of her face and she fell to the ground in pain. Stars danced before her eyes as her attacker brought his face so close to hers that they were almost nose to nose. Fighting off the darkness that was threatening to pull her in, she focused on the ugly face before her. In the dim light she could barely make out beady gray eyes, sagging cheeks and thin lips. He was almost completely bald except for a few grizzly strands that were sticking up here and there. 

"When I ask you a question you will answer it woman!"

Defiance flashing in her eyes, she spat in his face. His only answer was a powerful slap. The ornate ring he wore on his right hand connected harshly with her cheekbone and sliced it open. Feeling blood flowing down her face, Marguerite surged to her feet and used her body as a battering ram against the man's stomach. They landed in a tangled heap. 

Seeing this as her chance to escape, she unraveled herself from her captor and starting running back in the direction of the treehouse. She soon heard his footsteps behind her again and knew that she couldn't possibly outrun him. Realizing he hadn't bothered to check her for weapons, she reached in the waistband of her pants and pulled out her gun. Standing her ground, she waited for him to break through the bushes. _I only have one shot at this_, she thought. Her hands were tied and one of her eyes was swollen due to the blow he had delivered just a few short moments ago making it nearly impossible to steady her hands and take aim.

His form entered her line of vision with an enraged roar. She took a deep breath and fired.

***** *****

The sound of the shot echoed through the night air and reached the explorers as they studied the ground near the pond. Although from this great of a distance it was barely above a whisper, Roxton heard the sound of the bullet exiting the chamber and the squawking of birds that had been roused from their nests.

"Did you hear that?"

Challenger noticed the alert look on Roxton's face and tried to figure out what the hunter was talking about. "What do you think you heard?"

"A gunshot. It came from that way," he said, pointing in the direction he believed the sound had come from. 

"You don't think it was Marguerite do you?" 

"Who else could it have been? She's in trouble, we have to hurry!"

"John, I know you're worried but it's the middle of the night. We have to wait until morn—"

"It will be too late by then!" He interrupted in an angry voice.

Seeing the determination on Roxton's face, Challenger said, "We have to at least stop by the treehouse and wake the others." When Roxton still appeared unconvinced he added, "I also need some supplies in case she has been hurt."

"All right, but let's be quick about it."

***** *****

__

Who is this woman of silence, Gellus thought. Her shot had missed him by a scant few inches and she had paid dearly for her unfortunate aim. He had let his rage rule him as he hit her again and again. He stopped after a few minutes when it dawned on him that she hadn't screamed . . . or pleaded with him for mercy. Although it was impossible to tell for certain in the darkness, he didn't think she had even cried. His suspicious nature taking over, he made the decision to sell this woman to the next person he came across. _There is something wrong with her . . ._

Not a tear had fallen during the savage attack. It was her own fault that she was in this situation and she could not afford the luxury of crying until she got herself out of it. The day was just beginning and Marguerite hoped it would bring another chance for escape. She had no idea where she was now, having been too lost in her pain over the last few hours to pay attention to their path.

They had stopped to rest for a few minutes while the man ate. Marguerite looked over at the person beside her and estimated his age to be around four. He studied her through wide innocent eyes. Finally he said in his native tongue, "My name is Skrel, don't worry my Papa will be here to save us soon."

Marguerite gave the little boy a gentle smile and wondered how long he had been the barbaric man's captive. He was much too skinny for a boy his age and he looked as though he had endured his share of beatings at the hands of Gellus. His eyes took up most of his tiny face and the hope she saw shimmering in their depths was enough to break her heart.

An overwhelming urge to protect the child rushed through her and she promised the boy silently, _I'm going to get us out of here_.

***** *****

"Over here," Veronica yelled when she found Marguerite's gun in the weeds. "They've been gone from here for two or three hours."

Terror like nothing he had never experienced rushed through Roxton, making him feel dizzy. They had been tracking her all night. He had felt pride flood over him when he realized that she was marking her trail as best she could. _Please God let her be alive . . ._

He had confidence in Marguerite's ability to talk her way out of anything, sometimes at the expense of her friends, but she still hadn't regained her voice. Seeing her pistol lying silently on the ground and the traces of blood on the surrounding plants, he swore that he would find her if it took him the rest of his life.

Malone put a reassuring hand on Roxton's broad shoulder and said, "Then there's no time to waste."

***** *****

Gellus was pushing them at a breakneck pace. He was now certain the woman was a witch and he wanted to get rid of her as soon as he possibly could . . . afraid that the longer she was around him, the easier it would be for her to cast her spell.

Marguerite had almost fainted several times. The combination of the afternoon heat, fatigue, hunger, and pain were taking a toll on her body and she didn't know how much longer she could keep up with her abductor. Looking over at Skrel, she noticed his shallow cheeks were flushed from exertion. Knowing she might very well be inviting another beating, she abruptly stopped. 

Gellus swung around and asked, "What are you doing?" 

Pointing to the child, she made a gesture like she was drinking something. Skrel looked at her with his glowing eyes and nodded his head in agreement.

"Oh so you want water do you," the man taunted as he loomed threateningly over the boy. Marguerite saw him raise his hand to strike Skrel at approximately the same moment she heard her friends approaching through the woods. Helplessly she saw the man's fist hit the young child's face with enough force to break his fragile jaw. 

Gellus heard the group also and pulled his knife to attack the new arrivals as he ran in their direction. Fury at being trapped buried his reason and, knowing he wouldn't be able to fight off so many, he blindly looked for an outlet for his anger. Seeing the huddled form of the boy, he made his way over to purge his wrath. 

Marguerite watched in horror as the man made his way to Skrel. _He's going to kill him_, her mind screamed. Without thinking she bridged the distance between them and shielded the boy's body with her own.

She heard Roxton yell in the distance and felt a brief flash of pain and then nothing . . .

***** *****

"NO!" Roxton shouted as he charged the large man that had just stabbed his Marguerite. Gellus barely had time to react. He raised his bloody knife and ran towards Roxton. However, Roxton didn't have a chance to even touch him because Challenger fired one shot and the man fell to the ground dead.

He immediately ran to Marguerite's lifeless body and gently cradled her in his arms. His blood boiled when he saw the various bruises and cuts that covered her lovely face. He softly caressed her battered body as the other explorers joined him. Looking up at Challenger with pleading eyes, he ordered, "You have to save her Challenger!"

Watching the scene from a distance, Malone looked around for the little boy. He was almost positive he had seen a tiny body next to Marguerite's when they finally found her. Pushing his thoughts aside, he focused again on the young woman bleeding all over the jungle floor. _I must have just imagined it . . ._

***** *****

"Marguerite . . ."

She opened her eyes and was blinded by the brightest light she had ever seen. She tried to focus on the face that was floating above hers but she found it very difficult. "Am I in heaven?" 

A look of astonishment settled on her face when she realized she had just spoken for the first time in two weeks. She heard a gentle laugh and saw the Skrel's face transform into that of the old woman who had stumbled into their camp. _What was her name? Aria, I think._

"No, not heaven child."

"Where then?" Briefly she wondered if she was in hell but immediately dismissed the idea. _It's much too peaceful here_, she thought with a sigh. 

"That's not important . . ."

"Maybe not to you," she answered sarcastically. _Definitely not heaven either, my back is killing me!_ "You're the reason I lost my voice, aren't you?" 

The old woman nodded her head. "You finally did something worthy of getting it back."

"You're lucky I'm injured . . ." Marguerite threatened weakly. 

"I hope you've learned your lesson, young woman."

"Yes, don't risk your life for spooky little boys because it hurts like hell."

"Sounds like you could use another round . . ."

Marguerite shuddered causing her whole body to ache and said, "No, I've had quite enough for one day!"

The woman changed forms again into a beautiful young blonde. "I'll be watching you."

"Wonderful, just what I need," she muttered before slipping into darkness again, "a guardian angel with an ax to grind."

***** *****

"Marguerite . . .darling please wake up. I don't know what I'll do without you . . . I need you, please don't leave me . . ."

She opened her eyes and saw the thatched roof of the treehouse above her. She shifted a little and Roxton's face came into view. "I'm trying to rest here. Can't you ever leave me alone, I've been stabbed for God's sake . . ." she said softly.

He gave a whoop of joy and yelled, "She's awake and she's back to her normal sweet self!"

The others filed into the room and surrounded her bed. "How are you feeling my dear?" Challenger asked as he examined her various bruises and scrapes. 

"Peachy, there's nothing I like better than to be beaten within an inch of my life, stabbed in the back, and threatened by a fairy with a grudge."

The others looked at her in confusion and Veronica said, "A fairy?"

Seeing the disbelief on their faces, she explained what had happened to her voice. She could tell by the expressions that they thought she was delusional. 

"I think we need to let her get some rest," Challenger suggested. He went into the living room, immediately followed by the others. 

"What do you make of her story, Challenger?" Malone inquired.

"Just a dream she had while she was unconscious I'm sure Malone."

"Then how did she get her voice back?"

He thought for a minute and said, "Probably the trauma of being stabbed."

Although it was a reasonable explanation, Malone wasn't convinced. He knew he had seen a little boy even though the others didn't report seeing anyone else there. _Stranger things have happened on the plateau_, he thought but he didn't comment. Instead he asked, "Who wants first watch?" 

"Don't worry about that," Roxton said. "I'll stay with her all night." He bid them goodnight, ignoring the knowing smiles on their faces. 

He entered her room and sat on her bed. Her eyes fluttered open and she teased him, "I thought I told you to leave me alone."

"Not a chance," he assured her.

Thinking she could embarrass him and break the odd spell that had enveloped them, she asked, "So what was it you were saying when I came to?"

Looking into her beautiful eyes he answered truthfully and without hesitation, "Only that I need you and I'd be lost without you."

Her breath caught in her throat. She didn't know what to say. She longed to tell him all the reasons they could never be together but she also wanted to tell him that she needed him too. Seeing the conflict on her face, he leaned over and kissed her tenderly, careful not to touch any of her many bruises. He wanted to hear that she loved him but he could wait . . . _she is alive now and that is more than enough at the moment. _

She looked at him in alarm as he settled into the bed next to her. "What do you think you're doing, Roxton?"

"We had a deal. I made dinner, now you have to live up to your end of the bargain." Seeing her expression, he reflectively added, "Of course, if you'd rather . . . my laundry **_has_** been piling up."

"Why you little—" 

He laughed and silenced her by pulling her struggling form into his arms. _This will do for now, _he thought happily as he held her and they fell asleep in each other's arms.


End file.
